Monotony
by MaybeIfI
Summary: Set after The Spirit War. Eli has returned to life with Benehime, and a new pattern of life emerges. Rated M for the unsexiest not-smut ever.


So I just read these four books in the last week, and now I can't wait for the next one to come out. So have some not-smut to help in the meantime. Spoilers for just about every single book!

**Monotony**

* * *

While he had been away, Eli had grown much taller.

Now that he stood just a head shorter than the Shepherdess' eye level, he could see the sparseness of the world, the narrow and petty and terribly cramped confines. He understood her perpetual boredom, and he shared in it. He could actually feel himself becoming stupider by the minute. After a few desperate attempts at inventing games to alleviate the tedium, he allowed himself to sink, deeply, in the haze.

Alric took Eli aside once, in an attempt to smack some life back into the former greatest thief in the world. The pain was laughably small compared to the burns Eli suffered in Benehime's random and unmitigated flashes of temper. It was strange to think that she had actually been holding back in the days before. It was strange to think of a Benehime who knew any form of restraint. She had none now, not when she squeezed him to the point of cracking his ribs while he slept, and not when she nearly broke his wrist as he was dragged from meeting to meeting. She certainly had no restraint once she learned that Alric had dared to touch her favorite star.

And if the League members made empty threats when Eli proved unhelpful in curbing the Shepherdess' temper or helping them find clues to her plans, it was only with the same hate they had held in their eyes when he first became the favorite anyway.

And if they chose to glare and make hostilities, it was only a welcome distraction from the way every living creature shrank from Eli as he walked in the Shepherdess' shadow.

While he had been away, Benehime had developed a curious appetite for sex.

It wasn't as if the possibility had never occurred to him, that maybe the 'full potential' she had anticipated in his growth was simply a capacity for carnal activities. He wondered sometimes if that was why he had never pursued any sexual exploits of his own during the all-too-brief years of freedom: the feeling of constantly being watched by the most important woman in his life had perhaps been a damper on his libido.

But there was an expectation that gentlemen thieves are connoisseurs of night-time pleasures, and powers knew old Monpress had passed many an enlightening novel in Eli's direction. Eli had read them dutifully and taken notes on the techniques used by each romantic hero to soundlessly escape the room after a night's romp. Monpress had merely sighed, and muttered that one day Eli might get the point.

Later, in the first year with Josef, there had been a most entertaining misunderstanding one night when the swordsman kindly sought to set Eli up for a night of fun. The unhesitating rejection of this offer led to a discussion on the delicate nature of male friendship, followed by a resolve to never bring the subject up again.

Now Eli was left to stare up at the ceiling as Benehime rode him, wondering what it was about this that everyone had expected him to enjoy.

The Shepherdess seemed to enjoy herself, at any rate, and she knew how to suit Eli's body to her needs. She didn't seem to mind the way he laid there like a corpse, so he watched her in a bemused fashion as she tugged and bucked and did whatever else got the job done. Every so often, he was prompted to confirm that he loved her, and he did this without hesitation because it was true. He did love her. He didn't know what else to do.

And if her touch left him raw and aching with burns, it was only the same dull ache he once felt in his chest when he had held a friend there close to his heart.

And if remembering the old friend who once warmed him made him feel lonely, it was only the same dull loneliness he felt in rare moments of clarity when it occurred to Eli that his world had once been full of many people.

While he had been away, Eli had developed a marvelous reputation amongst the spirits for his kindness.

This unfortunate misunderstanding was rectified within hours of his return to Benehime, as he stood by listlessly and watched her work her will on a succession of doomed individuals who used their last moments to beg him to intervene. This had not pleased the Shepherdess, and she had been very quick to teach Eli the consequences of allowing spirits to avail themselves to him. Now the spirits lay quiet and trembled in his presence. He may as well have been deaf.

It seemed to Eli that he had once done much for them, but at the same time it felt as though he had never done enough. There was a girl with dark eyes who reached to him in dreams, and he never reached back. He could not understand why she came back, night after night, as if he had done something to make her believe that he was worth returning to. The spirits had learned better; why couldn't she?

It nagged at him, in his rare idle moments, that someone had once lectured him on the ease of destroying a reputation compared to the labor of building one. Sometimes there was an impatient growl in the memory, and then a flash of anger that baffled him.

And if the sudden bursts of temper were familiar, it was only because it was the same temper he felt from Benehime every day.

And if the growing similarity between himself and Benehime bothered him, it only bothered him as much as the flinch of the trees as he walked by, the raw burning of his skin, the itch of memories...

Fading...


End file.
